The Second Victim (I)

02:10 P.M. 

Xian Santos's Residence. 

July 20th, the year 2018. Friday. 

Xian stood up from his bed, hearing some mellow music from downstairs. He gripped the cane in his left hand, staring at the lighter cast that surrounded his right leg. With his right hand recovered, he can now move it up to the upper level of his head. 

The music gave a melancholy tune all over the mansion. He wanted a mellow rock song, but his mother didn't feel like it. His mother might have been practicing for another opera for her theater career. 

Xian walked slowly over the four-glass and wide windows of his bedroom. He swept the lace curtains aside and looked down to the road outside of their house. The street's deserted. 

Only cars that parked outside of their houses and the whoosh of the wind from the east. The afternoon sun smiled through the west. It's tinge radiant on the pavements. 

It has been one month since Margo's death. Xian cannot even compose himself from believing what happened to her. She's murdered without concrete evidence.

Xian locked himself in his bedroom, delaying every therapy for his right leg. He cried over his pillow for weeks after Margo's funeral. He was there too, and he couldn't help but howl that day. Carmela, his ex-girlfriend, was also in grief when she held that jar. 

His mother and father can't even talk to him for the past weeks after she died. His career of being a famous painter fell apart. He didn't know if he could continue painting different strokes. The one who made him smile every day left the world. 

He didn't know what to think and act, and this was the first day he stood up from his bed without tears in his eyes. 

Xian sighed while looking out from the windowsill. He felt the tears on the verge of falling down again. Xian looked up at the ceiling, his vision became blurry. He sat down on his bed, sobbing. 

"Margo...," Xian mumbled, raising his left hand. His shoulders shook. It's supposed to be a happy day for him, but it turns out that he can't move on with his life with Margo's memories. 

Something vibrated over the bedside table. He sniffed, looking over there. Xian saw his cell phone lighting up. 

Xian even didn't have time to look over his social media accounts. All the entrepreneurs who wanted to sponsor him... he declined all of it. Xian furrowed his eyebrows because this was the first time he got a call from an unknown number. 

He saw the unrecognizable pattern of the numbers. He put the cane carefully on the comforter of the mattress.

He picked up his cell phone from the table and stared at the number. The tears stopped coming into his eyes. It wasn't a restricted number. He was sure he blocked all the calls coming from unknown members. 

This combination doesn't seem to stir up familiarity. 

Although he was curious about who was calling, he declined it and threw it over his head pillow on his left side. 

"I don't have time to answer nonsensical calls from an unknown number," Xian muttered. Xian hung up the call immediately. He tried to stand up from his bed again, but his cell phone received a text message. Xian puffed his cheeks in annoyance. 

Xian picked it up, saw someone starting a Line conversation with him. 

"What does this person want from me?" Xian muttered and opened the chat conversation. He raised his eyebrows when he only saw a voice recorded message. Xian slunk his shoulders down, puzzled. The message felt chained, something that wasn't right. 

He swallowed and pressed the play button. It was a muffled voice, but then... he widened his eyes when he heard the whole one-minute recording. He felt the tears coming right away again as he dropped his cell phone on the ground. 

Xian gasped, swallowing the lump in his throat. He opened his mouth wide. Xian didn't know what to feel. One thing's for sure now, he needed to go to the police station. 

He stood up, his right leg stung in pain. Xian didn't even care about it. He knew that what he heard could give justice to Margo's death. 

Xian picked up the cane rashly from the bed and put it on the ground with anger. He bolted outside. He didn't even know how he reached the bedroom door without even wincing. 

Xian slammed the door behind his back. He stared at his clothes. He was wearing a plain red shirt and khaki shorts. Xian doesn't have any footwear, and he didn't know how he could go to Manila National Police Station in this outfit. 

Xian limped carefully but rapidly over the stairs. He saw his mother dancing like a fairy on the side of the jukebox as he reached the foot of the stairs. 

Sammy opened her eyes. She's astonished to see that her son was standing there without even screeching with pain. Sammy twisted off the music from the jukebox, running over to her son. She held his left arm, asking if he was alright. 

"What were you doing down here?" Sammy asked, her anxious tone emerged. Xian clenched his jaw.

"Mom, I need to go to Manila National Police Station. I need to talk to Lieutenant Marcus Dela Rosa," Xian began, looking straight at his mother. Sammy was so astonished by what she heard. She scoffed. 

"Do you know what you were saying? They limited you to moving. Your leg doesn't receive many therapies, as the doctor's schedule. Now you were saying to me to go to the Police Station?" Sammy reminded. 

"Yes, mom. I have some matters to talk with him, so please, drive me off of there," Xian pleaded. Sammy closed her eyes. She grimaced at her son and didn't know what to say. It's the first time she heard a beseeching wish from her son. 

It was also the first time since Margo's death he went out of his bedroom without even shedding a tear. 

"Please, mom. I need to say something to him." Xian pursed his lips after. He's careful enough to slip out any words from the message he heard. Sammy held her forehead first and nodded. 

"I'll call our family driver. Seat over there first," Sammy mumbled softly. She went over to the telephone that was beside that long cream couch next to the staircase. Xian didn't even bother to take a seat because he knew it would be painful to stand up again.

The jukebox was still lit up, waiting for someone to press the play button, and sighed. A grand piano was placed beside it, covering its keys. His mom loves to play with it. Xian realized how his mother really loved her theater career. The house was completely quiet without that melancholy song. 

Xian heard his mother put the telephone back in its place and faced him.

"Don't you want to change your clothes first?" Sammy asked her son. Xian shook his head as Sammy patted his back. She guided him outside of the house as Xian felt the pain in his right leg. 

He bit his lip, controlling the squeak in his lips. They went outside and saw the car parking in front of them. Their family driver rolled the car window down and smiled at both of them. 

"Please take care of Xian, Mr. Jake. I need to practice my opera dance for tonight," Sammy said to him while crouching down. Mr. Jake nodded and motioned for Xian to climb carefully in his car. He sighed as Mr. Jake asked his mother where Xian will go. 

Xian heard his mother say Manila National Police Station. 

Mr. Jake turned the car around on the side of their terrace. Xian picked up his cell phone from the insides of his shorts with his left hand. He pressed the message again, lowered down the speaker so that Mr. Jake couldn't hear it, and put it right next to his ear. 

"Lieutenant Dela Rosa. The bracelet that's found on the crime scene of Margo Monteverde right at the top of the hood of her car. It's positive about Katrina Fajardo's fingerprints. The forensic team sent it over through the international forensics for the test. The scanners have been out for almost three weeks now." 

It's a muffled voice. Xian gripped his cell phone tightly as the voice ceased. He closed his eyes out of anger and panted right in his seat.